


Jumping and Dressage: The Blog of Rebecca Ryman

by Emily



Category: Newsflesh Trilogy - Mira Grant
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 02:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily/pseuds/Emily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’ve heard about Rebecca Ryman by now...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jumping and Dressage: The Blog of Rebecca Ryman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coltsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coltsbane/gifts).



> Everyone in the Newsflesh world blogs. Why wouldn't a teenage girl?

**June 15, 2039**

Jeannie and I are showing this weekend. Not too far away this time – just down in Madison. I’m doing the usual show jumping and dressage on Horace, but it’s Jeannie’s first regional show so she's nervous. If it weren't illegal, I think she'd be riding every night. But we’re not allowed to be in the stables after the 9pm check so Mom doesn't have to try to tie Jeannie down.  I’ve been telling her that exhausting herself is just going make her ride worse at the show, but I don’t think it helped.

Amber’s mad she’s not allowed to come with us to watch and help groom.  She got herself grounded after failing a pre-Rising history test last week.  Anything else, and I think Dad would’ve let her off, but history? Only thing worse would be government  (I totally should start studying for that final.)  When the class started, I thought I’d ace it with Dad’s job and all, but knowing what a Senator does doesn’t help with the history bits and how the Executive Branches and Congress reacted to World Wars or Depressions or anything.  I’m still thinking about applying to Brown next year, and I probably should have awesome grades in government for them to accept me into pre-law and poli sci.  Less than a year until I graduate high school!  How weird is that?  It doesn’t seem possible.

  
 **July 22, 2039**

Again!  God.  Mom  _promised_ I could go to opening night for the new Bryon Bloom movie with Jenny and Caroline.  She _promised,_ but like  _always_ something came up.  So now Mom and Dad are in Madison meeting with some political people.  It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?  

So, I’m stuck here on a Friday night AGAIN. Watch me be pretentious and use pre-Rising slang: FML.

  
 **August 6, 2039**

I’m posting from the Wisconsin State Fair!  Even though half the people who read this are here with me.  I wish the rest of you were here too.  The show has been fantastic.  The best part (other than being around people who get   
_why_ we shouldn’t just kill all the horses) is that I didn’t fall off in the middle of my show jumping round.  I still get nightmares about that.  Losing my seat when Turk tripped and - I’ve seen horses put down before.  It’s awful even though we all know how to do it as safely as possible, and our farm has never had a horse reanimate.  But Turk was my first competition horse, and I still love that big black and white paint so much.  And then all the awful blogs took that footage and used it over and over and over to show how horse people are so stupid and should just get infected and get it over with.

Kind of awful, yeah.

Anyway!  That’s not what I was writing about!  I started this post to say I WON MY SHOW JUMPING AND DRESSAGE CLASSES.  Horace was amazing.  It was one of those days where he could read my mind and did everything I wanted perfectly.  Dad and Mom were both there to see it too.  Jeannie placed in the barrel racing class she entered at the last moment, and Amber did amazingly in the kiddie classes.  Good year for the Rymans at the State Fair!

Dad’s been getting all sorts of attention all Fair.  That thing I can’t talk about might actually happen.

 **August 19, 2039**

I’m locking down my blog today. Some of you know why, and – I guess the rest of you will soon enough. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll be back soon.

If the country's lucky, maybe I won't. The US needs someone like my dad who'll do more than just hide inside walled compounds. He's already put out a call for bloggers to follow his campaign. It's the first time bloggers are really recognized in politics, and the television media seems pissed as hell about it. It's their fault. I’m 17.  I wasn’t alive during the Rising, but it’s not like everyone doesn’t study it in history, and I try to pay attention to the news and the blogs so I can definitely say it.  The country needs leaders who aren't afraid of the sky and other people. I'm scared of the zombies, sure. Anyone who isn't is a moron – or maybe an Irwin, I don't know. 

I’m so proud of my Dad for standing up like this.  He’s my hero, and maybe he might be President in January 2041.  But why does the whole thing have to take over my life too?

  


  
{Please enter password for access}   
Password entered: Turk   
Access Granted   


  
**September 5, 2039**

Senior year starts tomorrow!  I still can’t believe it.  Seniors!  We’re seniors, and in May, I’m going to graduate!  High school is three-quarters over, and this year is going to be amazing.  I downloaded applications from University of Wisconsin, Yale, Blackstone, and Brown.  I thought about Harvard just to see if Dad would have a heart attack, but I can’t do that to him.  He’s looking exhausted half the time now, and the actual campaigning hasn’t even really started yet.

There was the usual Cannon Classic show over Labor Day weekend.  Dad was off at some rally in St Louis of course, but I took the blue ribbon in show jumping and didn't even place in dressage. Horace had an attitude all morning, and I never got cleared to take him out to run it off. So we only had the regular warm ups, and moody!Horace really needs to be half-exhausted before he'll stop being stubborn. 

Jeannie did really well though. I'm so proud of her! I still don't know why she decided to go halter class though. She loves horses as much as me and Mom, but some idiot at the State Fair gave her a bunch of Mason's Law propaganda, and she's been terrified of any actual riding ever since. I've tried to tell her that if you're _on_ a horse who amplifies at least you have a chance of controlling it until you can vault to safety. Lead lines aren't any protection at all. But that just gave her nightmares, and Mom yelled at me for scaring her. Like it was my fault those assholes freaked her out.  God.

  
 **December 3, 2039**

I haven’t written in forever!  I got a bunch of emails from you guys asking if the password changed or if anything was wrong.  Nope.  It’s just been busy here.  But all my college applications are in, and senior year is almost half done!  So now I’m just waiting and hoping I don’t get a bunch of rejections.

Not much to report on the horse front either.  Show season ended of course.  I’m always only half sad.  I love competing with Horace and seeing everyone, but getting to just work with the horses and see what we can do as partners without training for a particular event is so much fun.  Mom and I have been riding together a lot too.  I think she might miss me next year.  She used to give me lessons, but this year we’ve just been having fun and daring each other on dressage moves or setting up crazy jump courses.  It’s awesome.

Dad’s campaigning all over the West, but you guys already know that.  If you haven’t yet, go check out the coverage from After the End Times.  They’re the bloggers Dad (and Mom) selected, and sometimes I want to yell at them for not completely believing in Dad, but everything they write makes sense.  And Shaun Mason is really, really cute.

  
 **January 5, 2040**

Yeah, I know the bloggers are the kids of  _those_ Masons.  The Mason’s Law Masons who want to ban all animals in residential areas.  Who want to outlaw the life we live because they don’t trust people being able to make choices for themselves.

But they know we own a ranch, they know Mom and me and Jeanne and Amber all ride, and they’ve never taken a cheap shot about it.  They totally could’ve.  It’d probably help their ratings and all that.  So I guess I’m going to assume they mean well until they prove they don’t.  

 **January 21, 2040**

I GOT INTO BROWN!  I GOT INTO BROWN!  I GOT INTO BROWN!  

(And I’m totally going to brag now, but I got into Wisconsin-Madison, Yale, and Blackstone too.  If we still had the Olympics or International Competition, I think this would be a little like winning  a gold medal.  I never expected it to actually happen!)

BUT I GOT INTO BROWN!  I called Dad (even though we’re not supposed to unless it’s pre-scheduled), but he didn’t care.  I think he yelled as loud as I did!  

I GOT INTO BROWN!

(By the way, Mom says Shaun Mason is even cuter in person)

  
 **January 22, 2040**

Thank you for all the comments and congratulations!  I still can’t believe it.  I’m going to Brown!  I’m going to major in pre-law and go to law school like Dad.  I want to make a difference.  It means I won’t be able to take over the farm or own my own horses.  I don’t  _think_ I can manage an animal science degree too and take all the virology and vet courses required.  But I want to be like Dad.  I want to make a difference and make our country come out from behind its walled compounds.  We have to find a cure for Kellis-Amberlee, but until then -

Well, it’s like Georgia wrote:

 _Everyone has someone on the Wall. No matter how remote you may think you are from the events that changed the world during the brutal summer of 2014, you have someone on the Wall. Maybe they’re a cousin, maybe they’re an old family friend, or maybe they’re just somebody you saw on TV once, but they’re yours. They belong to you. They died to make sure that you could sit in your safe little house behind your safe little walls, watching the words of one jaded journalist go scrolling across your computer screen. Think about that for a moment. They_ died  _for you._

 _Now take a good look at the life you’re living and tell me: Did they do the right thing?_

I want to do the right thing.  

But not the right thing this weekend when I have to babysit Jeannie and Amber    
_again._   
Seriously, do I look like the hired help around here?

ETA: I totally talk about Shaun and Georgia like I know them now.  But after reading them (and Buffy!) almost every day for months, I feel like I do know them.  God, I’m so glad this journal is locked now so they’ll never be able to laugh at me for that.

  
 **February 11, 2040**

The words started scrolling across my computer screen before we got the phone call.  I’ve been crying ever since.

God bless those who lost their lives today in Eakly, Oklahoma.  God bless those who fought to save as many as possible.  I’m praying for all of their families.  

And as selfish as it is...God, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving my father.

  
 **February 20, 2040**

Mom’s almost never campaigning with Dad, but she travels all over Wisconsin to meet with allies or give speeches or do first interviews for campaign jobs.  So guess who’s taking care of the little sisters just about every minute we’re not in school.  Screw that.  I’m    
_so sick_   
of being the live in babysitter.  I hate being the one who has to ‘be the grown up’ and ‘take responsibility.’

Don’t get me wrong, I love my little sisters.  They’re really kind of awesome for kids, but this is my senior year!  I want to spend time with my friends!  

...yeah, okay, it’s just about foaling season.  I’d be in the foaling barn and with the pregnant mares 90% of the time anyway.  Still.

  
 **March 3, 2040**

Nightmares for the past two nights about Turk dying again.  The footage of me falling and the barn security putting him down is all over the blogs.  You’d think it was an old story, but I guess the fact that Senator Ryman’s oldest daughter fell off her horse is a good reason for him not to be nominated.  I hate this election.

  
 **March 9, 2040**

I don’t hate the election as much anymore.  It still sucks sometimes.  Especially the Falling Becky pictures, but at least it’s me getting mocked and not Jeannie.  And like Hannah pointed out, if they’re coming after me, it must mean no one has anything on Dad.  I can be totally okay with that.  

I did decide not to go to the Republican Convention next week.  It would be pretty cool to be there when Dad is maybe made the official candidate, but there’s so much to do for school and college coming up and...  Okay, you guys know me better than that.  

I just really couldn’t stand leaving the horses for that long.  I have to for Brown next fall, but I don’t want to yet.  I told my mom all the stuff about school, and I think she knew I was reaching.  It’s the middle of foaling season, and we already have eight babies.  It’s hard to get Jeannie and Amber out of the foaling barn even for dinner...and I’m right there with them.  I’m eighteen and still totally besotted with horses. That’s never going to change!

Besides I can read the coverage of the convention from Georgia and Shaun.  Half the time it’s almost like being there.  Only better because they’re way more observant than me.  (Okay, meeting Shaun and seeing all the hotness in person almost swayed me.  But it’d suck to know he was just being nice to me cause I’m the “candidate’s daughter.”  That’s been happening more often.  Yeah.  It’s as great as you think.)

It’s going to be a week of riding, playing with the foals, hanging out with my little sisters and grandparents, and keeping track of Dad at the convention.


End file.
